


The Public Enemy

by ACatWhoWrites



Category: C-Pop, EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Police, Bank Robbery, Boyfriends, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gun Violence, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13530306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: Banks all over the city are being robbed, seemingly with no pattern and leaving no identifying evidence. Heading the investigation is Detective Byun Baekhyun, who thinks he’s found the next target and is more determined than ever to capture the criminals, because it’s the same bank his husband works at.





	The Public Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> (prompt no.151) I imagined a lot of Art Deco happening here, although I didn't get into it so much, because the time it was very prevalent in the West, Korea was under Japanese rule and did not experience the same aesthetics. The art movement was the first look at Eastern culture, for a lot of people, but it took key elements and symbols and simplified them to make them marketable. If anyone's an art buff or has ideas of how to adapt Deco to a modernist/futurist Korea, please let me know.
> 
> "The Public Enemy Era" is what some historians call the 1930s in the US. After the stock market crash and the beginning of the Great Depression, unemployment was up to around 25%, and a lot of people resorted to crime. Some criminals became so notorious they reached the FBI's radar and joined the list of "public enemies."

ARMED THIEVES STEAL PROFIT & PEACE OF MIND  
By Kim Minseok, AP

> Sources confirm the recent robbery was committed by the same organization, the Flying Dragons, as the previous robberies. Eyewitnesses state the offenders all wore dragon masks and gloves. Weapons recovered by police reveal no prints.
> 
> Detectives and police urge the public to “stay vigilant” and report any suspicious activity. Continued on page A4

“So,” Jongdae says to himself as he folds the newspaper and sets it aside, “they have nothing...” It’s been months since the first robbery and his husband was assigned a task force to find the so-called “ _Flying Dragons_.” It’s a rare night when Baekhyun comes home and doesn’t sigh like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Their cat—Jongdae’s “child” from a previous relationship—rubs around his ankles and turns towards the front door as a distant _ding_ sounds in the outer hall.

“Daddy’s home, Chen.” Jongdae rubs the cat’s cheeks. “Go trip him; I’ll catch.” The cat hops to the floor and sits by the front door until it opens inwards. Baekhyun expertly avoids the first trap but walks right into Jongdae’s waiting arms. “Hey, handsome. How was work? You made the front page.”

Baekhyun casts a tired eye at the folded paper and sighs, leaning into Jongdae and putting all of his weight onto his husband. Chen winds around them, crying at the lack of attention.

“No progress, then?”

“Yes, and no.” Baekhyun sighs again and pulls away to remove his shoes. He walks across the room to a bookshelf and picks up a heavy-looking photo album. He opens the front to reveal the safe within it and rolls the tumblers to his four-digit code. His habit, since becoming a police officer, has been to take off his shoes and immediately lock his badge and gun away, although Jongdae always knows the combination, as well. “I finally convinced my boss to sign off on undercover surveillance teams posted at the remaining banks.”

“Where?” Jongdae picks up his cat. It goes limp against his shoulder.

“That’s what took so long to convince him about… It’s kind of everywhere?” He replaces the secret safe and drops onto the backless, blue sofa. Jongdae sits beside him; Chen the cat slinks down his lap to stretch out between them. “Because they’ve been staying within the vicinity. It’s a big enough story that any attempted and successful heist and holdup in the country is being tossed onto my desk.”

“That’s still nearly _twenty_ , if you’re including surrounding towns.” Baekhyun nods. “Baek...that’s a real stretch.”

“Trust me, I know, but I have a bad feeling with this group.” He rubs Chen’s cheek with a fingertip. “So far, there has been minimal violence and no casualties, but the longer they get away with it, the bolder they’re going to get.”

Jongdae sighs and straightens the wrinkles in the throw blanket his grandmother made as a wedding present. “That’s true, I guess.” Chen rolls over and stretches, revealing a soft white belly. “It is rare for bank robbers to go so long without being caught; this must be a very organized group.” He doesn’t flinch when Chen curls around his hand and starts kicking his wrist. “Are you working with the organized crime unit?”

“Not yet.” Baekhyun removes Chen from his husband’s hand and sets the cat on the floor, lying in its spot for Jongdae to pet him, instead. “We haven’t found actual ties to any mob or gang, although considering their masks and witness reports of their accents, we’re reaching out to Chinese and Taiwanese police.”

They’re quiet for a while. Chen meows as it leaves the room, unhappy to have been removed and probably going to find Baekhyun’s pants to shed over.

“I’m kind of impressed, honestly,” Jongdae admits.

“With what?” Baekhyun’s nearly asleep and barely giggles when Jongdae slips his fingers between the buttons of his shirt to drag short nails over his belly. He catches the offending hand and kisses it, holding it to his chest.

“The Masked Dragons.”

“ _Flying_ Dragons, babe.”

“Whatever. They’re becoming like one of those American gangsters. Maybe they’ll become myth.”

Baekhyun groans and rolls over to nuzzle into Jongdae’s lap. “I hope not.” A real group is proving difficult enough to catch; a myth would be entirely impossible without a competing legend. Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow were eventually killed in a police ambush after racking up a body count of thirteen along with their numerous robberies and thefts. Al Capone was only arrested on tax evasion. They were known and wanted criminals; there was a face and a name to look for. Baekyhun’s had beat cops interviewing costume shop workers and theatres and anywhere a mask could possibly be worn. Asking about people coming in with a foreign accent is not much to go on, but it’s all they have. The weapons were black market imports.

Jongdae combs his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair. His husband likes dying his hair shades of blond; the roots are starting to show. “When does this surveillance start?”

“Right away tomorrow. We’ve assigned teams and shifts plus an officer on the inside, posing as a guard or teller or whatever fits.” His tone is light, deceptively so. It’s the same tone he uses when he’s not telling Jongdae everything, and Jongdae knows this after years of hearing that tone and the subsequent apologies.

“Where will you be in all of this?” he asks, flicking Baekhyun’s right ear. “It’s your idea, so will you be running point at HQ?” His husband is quiet, and Jongdae leans over to see if he’s fallen asleep, but he’s staring at the crumbs stuck in the rug around the legs of the coffee table.

“I didn’t think it was right to not take a position in the field.”

There it is. The painful admission of truth. 

Painful in that Jongdae slaps his chest. “Baekhyun!”

He sits upright, right hand raised beseechingly while his left rubs the sore spot. “Dae, listen—” Chen reappears, drawn to the sounds of conflict, and sits in the doorway to watch.

“You _promised_ to avoid the field as much as possible! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Last time Baekhyun went undercover, it was long term with Violent Crimes, and Jongdae didn't even know Baekhyun had gotten hurt until he came home with his arm in a cast, a black eye, and a promotion to detective. Jongdae nearly blacked his other eye for worrying him.

“This is just surveillance; nothing has indicated the Dragons are violent—”

Chen looks from Baekhyun to Jongdae.

“Yet you just said yourself that it’s only a matter of time.”

Chen looks back to Baekhyun.

“And that’s just a theory!”

Chen turns again to Jongdae and stands up with a trill.

“Theories can be proven.”

“They can be disproven, too.” He grabs Jongdae’s hand. “It’s the right thing to do. I can’t let my officers believe that I’m just another suit assigning duties and not willing to do the work myself.”

Jongdae glowers at their hands. Their rings catch the lamplight and gleam, although it seems dimmer than usual. He pulls his hand free. “Go take a shower. Dinner’s in the fridge.”

“Jongdae…”

“Just give me a little bit. I know you’re right, but I’m still pissed.” He picks up Chen and goes to their bedroom. He watches Jongdae’s silhouette undress through the wall of colored glass and yank the covers from the bed to wrap himself in. Jongdae didn’t close the door entirely, which is a good sign, but he also didn’t turn a light on and removed the blankets from their bed, so Baekhyun can look forward to a cold night. 

Jongdae pretends to be asleep when Baekhyun finally comes to bed and wakes up before him to shower. Chen lays on the bath mat in front of the sink and croaks in disgust when Jongdae flicks water at it.

By the time he’s dry, brushed his teeth, and shaved, Baekhyun is awake and shifting slowly like he does every morning. Even when he knows he has to get up, he rolls around in denial until Jongdae rips the covers off or teases him to the point of suffering and he has to get out of bed to chase him down in retaliation.

“Chen, go wake up Daddy. He’s going to be late.” Since adopting the tabby, Jongdae hasn’t tried any specific training aside from learning where the litterbox is, so that it follows direction so well is uncanny. Chen stretches on the rug, extending either hind leg and arching its tail, coils around Jongdae’s ankles, and ambles back into the bedroom to hop onto the bed and sit on Baekhyun’s chest and place a paw lovingly on his face.

Baekhyun hates Chen’s “gross litter feet” which such passion he always gets up. “ _Gross_ , cat!”

“Then get in here and wash your face. You’ll be late.” Chen hops aside as Baekhyun rolls to his feet, claiming the warm spot he leaves behind.

Jongdae tosses the covers over the cat and calls it good. He pulls up his trousers and hops to free his feet but lets them hang open from his hips. The money he makes as a financial analyst makes having to wear suits everyday worth it. At least behind a desk, no one can tell if he’s wearing his shoes or not, and his socks don’t have to match.

Tucking his shirt, he finally fastens his pants and belt. He tosses his suit jacket over the wingback chair usually used as a catch-all. Chen’s bed is on it, but it rarely sleeps there when people are around.

All he’s missing are his glasses.

“Where are my eyes?”

“In your head,” Baekhyun replies around his toothbrush. He spits in the sink and taps the countertop with Jongdae’s plastic frames. He holds them up when Jongdae puts his hand out. “Will you talk to me, if I give them to you?” He’s barely taller than Jongdae, who’s more likely to play dirty.

Rubbing his sore side, he nods. “Still mad, I take it. I deserved that.”

“You deserve worse, but it’d be spousal abuse or murder, and both are illegal.” He slips the frames onto his face and grabs his jacket.

Baekhyun trails after him. “Jongdae, I can only apologize so many times. I _know_ I should’ve told you sooner, but this is the exact reason I didn’t. It’s my _job_ to protect the people, and I can’t do that behind the desk. Your desk and mine are very different.”

“You’re right. Mine doesn’t make me lie or break promises.” He hands his husband his trouser pants and shakes car hair from the undershirt. It’s actually one of his. “I couldn’t be more proud of you and your dedicated sense of purpose, but I’m still scared you won’t make it home. They nearly carried you in the door last time; someday it may be a bodybag, and while I know it’ll happen sooner or later, I really want to avoid that folded flag as a final memory for as long as possible.”

Baekhyun takes his arms and is relieved when Jongdae doesn’t slip away. “I can’t promise it’ll all be fine, but I can promise to do my absolute best to make it home.” He leans in, and Jongdae raises his chin but doesn’t close the distance himself. Baekhyun takes the lack of pain to be a good sign, although he jumps at the pinch to his butt.

“You’re an overachiever; you don’t even have to promise that.” He feels a little better. Not much, but he’ll take it. Staying upset is draining, and staying upset at Baekhyun is even more draining, because he openly sulks and apologizes at every corner, knowing full well that Jongdae will forgive him.

“Now that that’s passed us, let’s talk about important things. Like this outfit.”

Jongdae looks at himself. He thinks he looks rather nice. The suit is a dark cranberry red, and it doesn’t clash with his black shoes or tie at all. “What about it?”

“You look like a complete nerd.” Baekhyun hooks a finger under the matching red vest and tugs a little. “A handsome nerd, but still a nerd.”

“Baekhyun, I’ve been working in banks since before I knew you. _This_ ,” he puts out his arms, “is how we dress in a bank.”

“Which means...what, exactly.”

“It means my style isn’t about to change.”

He tugs at Jongdae’s sleeve, tightening the fabric over his arm. “I am well aware of what is beneath these dweeby suits and sweaters, and it physically pains me, sometimes.” For being so casual with his workout routine, Jongdae has maintained a fantastic figure. “Can’t you at least skip the tie and open a button or two? Let that skin breathe.”

“I’m dressing for work, not for you, dear.” Jongdae makes a kissy sound at Chen, who blearily opens its eyes but stretches.

“We both know what you’d wear if you were dressing for me,” Baekhyun mutters as he finishes dressing. “ _Un_ dressed. Found a nudist colony in our apartment.”

“You really will be late if you don’t get moving!” Jongdae calls from the kitchen. He pours only half a mug of coffee for each of them, so there’s no excuse to hang around. Chen gets a small saucer of milk with a side of muffin Jongdae breaks off. “ _Baekhyun—_ ” he warns.

“I’m coming! I tried to get your cat’s hair off, but it’s like glued on or something.” His suit is considerably more somber-colored but casual. Jongdae can’t remember the last time he wore a tie to work if it wasn’t for some occasion.

“The weight of his emotions, maybe.”

“He’s a cat. He doesn’t have emotions, do you, cat?” Chen licks his lips clean of crumbs and smiles, unconcerned. Its emotions are nobody’s business. “I’ll take that as a maybe…” He takes his coffee and frowns at the lack of it. “Quick question: Does anyone at your bank know me?”

“Personally, or...?” Jongdae shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve said I married a policeman, but I don’t have photos or anything on my desk.” That’s a lie; he has a photo of Chen. Baekhyun’s holding it, but he’s facing away to show how the cat hangs over him like a towel. “Why?”

“Just asking. I’ve been asked if you’re dead, because I have a ‘memorial wall’ of you at the station.”

“Oh my God…”

“I want everyone to know what they’re missing, not having you in their lives.”

“That’s gross, Baekhyun.” Jongdae kisses him. “But sweet. Don’t think I’m not still upset, though.” He kisses him again and leans over to flip Chen’s tail. “Behave. I’ll see you both tonight.”

It’s a short ride in the spacious elevator car paneled with decorative metal. Jongdae checks bits of his reflection before the doors open to the lobby. The girl behind the front counter smiles and bows when she sees him and waves to the doorman to get his attention.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Hello, Heechul. Is there a car for me?” Jongdae steps aside for a couple of women to pass by and walk down the sidewalk.

“Of course.” Heechul’s arm is somehow connected to the cabs of the city; he raises an arm, and a cab pulls up to the curb. “Have a good day.”

“Thank you.” He has to check himself before giving the address of the last bank he worked at. The new one is closer to home and very pretty, situated on a corner and sporting a curved front with many windows and a lit sign at the very top. The familiar whoosh and thud of the pneumatic tubes and the clank of coins greets him upon entering, and he greets the tellers in their bar-fronted windows with a wave, walking over shiny marble tiles to the offices.

He leaves his coat and suit jacket on the rack beside his office door and pours a cup of coffee from the pot one of the office girls left for him. He’s not sure if it’s what they usually do, but he’s not about to complain.

Piles of papers and files litter his desk, and he settles in for another morning delving into the banks’ stocks and bonds and trying to figure out how well they’re perform in the future market. It’s boring and incomprehensible to Baekhyun, but Jongdae enjoys it. He’s always been money-minded and gets to work by himself a lot of the time. He prefers his work to Kyungsoo’s, an analyst investigating the fundamentals of a new company to see if a merger is appropriate or not. No one wants to give a straight answer to anything; it all is twisted into the most positive light. Kyungsoo says the stress will soon bald him, yet he persists.

Noon makes itself known with a noisy gurgle from his gut. He drops his pen on his desk and rubs at his eyes. Maybe he’ll treat some of the office girls to lunch.

Cleaning his glasses with his tie, he lays his jacket and coat over his arm and leaves his office after hitting the lightswitch with his elbow. He catches the backside of a man in a dark uniform and then their profile as they turn a corner, and Jongdae holds up his glasses too late to get a clear look. He’d know that back end anywhere, though.

Offices line the hall with glass exterior walls and horizontal blinds. Directly across from Jongdae’s office is Kim Joonmyun, resident financial manager and former financial analyst whose position Jongdae was hired to fill. He’s a classically handsome man around Jongdae’s age with a dad-like sense of humor and caring nature. His patience may someday be legendary; clients love working with him.

Joonmyun looks up from his oyster pail of takeout when Jongdae knocks on the doorframe, greeting him around a mouthful of food, “Hehwo, Jonggae.”

“Hey, hyung. Who was that man just now?” 

“The new head of security, Byun Daehyun. He was just asking for Miss Kwon’s office.”

Jongdae hums. “He’s handsome. You think Miss Kwon hired him for his looks?”

“Jongdae… You’re married.”

“Married, not dead. I can still look.”

“Just make sure you look with your eyes, not your hands, okay?”

“Of course, Mother.” He didn’t expect his husband to be stationed at his own bank. He drops his coat on the chair across from Joonmyun’s desk to pull on his jacket. “Well, I was going to ask if you’d like to come out and have lunch, but you’re set.” There is a stack of old containers beside his wastebasket; it doesn’t look as though he made it home last night.

“Next time, Jongdae. How was your weekend, though?” Jongdae shrugs. “Mine felt too long. The manager groans and sets his food on his desk. “Time goes faster at work.”

“Something to look forward to?”

“Not at work, no, but my boyfriend’s finally back in town.”

“Yifan?” He mentioned the other man a couple times in passing. Evidently, he travels a lot for work, so actually meeting him is a treat Joonmyun looks forward to. Jongdae gets lonely when Baekhyun stays overnight at the station. “How long has he been gone this time?”

“A couple weeks. Visiting family overseas.”

“It’s rough when they’re gone, but then they’re back for a few days, and we wish they’d go away again.”

“True. For as much as I love him, he can really get on my nerves…” Joonmyun’s fond smile falls when he looks beside Jongdae. “Do you think the police will catch them?”

“Hmm?” Jongdae looks behind him. Joonmyun’s watching the TV sitting in the corner of his office. A bold rectangle beside the anchor reads “NO LEADS IN BANK ROBBERIES” and “POLICE ASK PUBLIC FOR HELP” in a smaller font. “I read about it this morning, too. They’re doing their best.”

“Your husband’s a cop, isn’t he? Has he said anything about this?”

“Just that they’re doing all they can. Most robbers do get caught; it’s just a matter of time.”

“Two of the banks I worked at in the past were robbed. I was off work for one but on break for the other.” He smiles humorlessly. “They held a gun to my head.”

“And you still work in a bank. You’re dedicated.”

“I’m something, I know that. My boyfriend’s been trying to convince me to retire when we get married and live off his apparent immeasurable wealth. He helped me a lot after the robberies, but that doesn’t mean I want to just hide from the world and veg out. I don’t think I’m old enough to retire—”

“You act like it, sometimes.”

“—and what will I do, then? Sit at home and knit sweaters for all of our ten dogs?”

“You have dogs?” Baekhyun’s dream is to open his own sanctuary for dogs. Jongdae isn’t against a dog or two, as long as they don’t terrorize Chen, but he’s not as enthusiastic as his husband about living in a domestic menagerie.

“I have _a_ dog, but you get the idea. Did your husband say anything like that before you married?”

“No.” Because he knew better. “We did talk a lot about what we wanted and compromised. I quit my job at the time to move here with him for his work, and he couldn’t complain about what I did with my own time. Sometimes, it can be nearly a week until I actually see him, because he works so late.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. He’s working to protect the people.”

“I know.” Jongdae grins and picks up his coat. “It’s just a little lonely, sometimes. For as much as I talk shit about him, I still love him a lot.” He says goodbye and leaves his friend to his lunch. Two of the secretaries and a newly hired teller take him up on his offer of lunch, although they dismiss his offer to call a cab and walk the couple of blocks to an Italian restaurant.

He catches glimpses of Baekhyun throughout the day. Miss Kwon leads him through the bank, giving a tour as well as pointing out security measures and features. He goes to the offices to introduce himself and spends some time talking with the office ladies and girls behind the windows. Even from his office, Jongdae can tell they’re charmed.

And Baekhyun has the gall to say Jongdae only likes his job because of all the flirting he does.

Joonmyun steps into Jongdae’s office later that night, taking a seat in the deep armchair against the wall. “What do you think of the new girl?”

“Kim Yerim? I had lunch with her today. She’s very sweet and learns fast. The other girls have definitely taken a liking to her—clients, too, from what I could see.” Even under the pressure of a longer line from two girls having a break at the same time, Yerim worked coolly and efficiently and kept a patient smile. “I saw the security guard talking to them; they like him already, too.”

“Security Head Byun is charming and handsome, like you’d said before. I like him a lot more than the last one. He just stayed in the office unless someone came and got him.”

“He may still become like that. Don’t give him too much credit, yet.” Jongdae spins back and forth in his chair. “If he doesn’t hide himself away, we may get more clients because of that face of his.” He finally notices the time and frowns. “Why are you still here? It’s late; you said your boyfriend was back, right?”

“He called to say he’s working late,” Joonmyun sighs and smiles, “so I figured I’d get some more work done, too. My younger brother takes care of my dog, so I don’t have to go home for that, either.”

“Go home because that’s where your bed is, hyung,” Jongdae presses. “I saw your office; you don’t need to spend consecutive nights here.”

“What about you? You have a husband at home.” Baekhyun is doing a security check of the offices and vaults; Jongdae had passed him by the restrooms earlier.

“He’s working late. I’m planning on packing up, now, and going home to my beloved cat.” He turns the one frame on his desk so Joonmyun can look. “I’ve had him longer than my husband and feel a greater sense of duty in returning home.”

“I won’t keep you, then.” Joonmyun pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“ _Go home,_ hyung.”

“Yes, yes…”

Jongdae locks his office, dropping the key in his wallet. The hall and main foyer of the bank are totally different at night. Horizontal bars drop down around the teller stations and every open hall; the pneumatic tubes and coin machines are silent; he can hear the heels of his shoes click on the tiles and echo.

He buys a late lunch from a food cart and hails a cab. The driver is content to let the radio fill the silence between them but thanks Jongdae when he pays.

Kim Heechul’s nighttime counterpart, Kim Junmo, meets the cab and greets Jongdae. For working nights only, he’s always chipper. Heechul mentioned that Junmo occasionally plays guitar at local clubs on his nights off.

The weight of the day finally catches up with him in the elevator. He lets himself lean against the wall and watch the numbers light up one by one as the car travels higher.

Chen is waiting at the door when he enters, immediately winding around his ankles with simultaneous whines and purrs but no complaints when Jongdae picks it up so he can remove his shoes without falling.

After refilling the cat’s food and water dishes, Jongdae foregoes a shower and goes straight to bed, falling right asleep.

He wakes up before the sun to the sound of a dry pen scratching across paper. Baekhyun is on his side with a lamp dimly illuminating the corner of the bed. He has a file open on the bed and has already chewed the end of the pen to disfiguration.

“You know, Baek,” Jongdae clears his throat, “if you can’t sleep, I have a couple home remedies to tire you out.” Jongdae rolls over and bites Baekhyun’s shoulder. It’s cold; he’s been up for a while.

“I’m sorry. Did the light wake you?”

“No, your writing did.” Jongdae scoots up to lean over his husband. “What’s all this? More work?”

“I’m working on finding the group’s pattern and movements. It takes planning to pull off a full heist like these and get away without a trace, particularly with a group—most robberies are solo acts. They’re obviously organized, and they go for cash in drawers as well as whatever safes and lockboxes.” He sighs and rubs his eyes. “There are just so many banks within the city alone Including suburbia and outlying towns… We haven’t reviewed them all thoroughly enough to know anything for sure.”

“You won’t solve anything without sleep.” Jongdae reaches over him and takes the file and pen. He grimaces at the state of the pen and tosses it into the wastebasket beside the bed.

“I know. It’s just frustrating. Theft is not a victimless crime. We’ve been lucky that no one’s been seriously hurt so far, but that luck may eventually run out.”

“Save it, Detective. Thinking like that helps nothing.”

“I know…”

Jongdae kisses his cheek. “Just turn off the light and lie down. I can’t go back to sleep, now, if you stay up.” Baekhyun sighs but hits the lamp switch and allows himself to be manhandled onto his back. 

They don’t speak, instead staring into the darkness of their room and letting their individual thoughts exhaust their minds until they finally fall asleep.

 

Baekhyun leaves before Jongdae the following morning, and he has to leave his cab blocks before the bank due to the police cars surrounding it.

He shows his identification before the officers allow him inside. “What happened?”

“Attempting robbery. Everything is alright now, though. We’ve apprehended the individual.” It sounds like a rehearsed speech for a news reporter. They’re hovering nearby, notepads and personal recorders ready for anyone who will talk to them.

Baekhyun is crouched beside the collection of sofas in the designed waiting area in the center of the foyer, a tall officer standing somewhat awkwardly beside him as he talks to a visibly distressed Kim Yerim.

Joonmyun waves him into his office before he can unlock his own. “First thing this morning, some kid tried to pass Yerim a note demanding money. She hit the silent alarm right away, and Byun Daehyun contacted police, so they were waiting for him.” He shakes his head. “The guy flashed a knife at the poor kid, although he’s practically a kid himself, from what I heard.”

“Everything’s alright, though?”

“Yeah. I think the response time was so fast because of the recent robberies. They helped, in this case. A single person on foot could easily get away.”

“We’ll have to thank the new guy, then. He’s looking after Yerim, now, too.” Jongdae gestures to his door; Joonmyun follows him across the hall. “Did you make it home last night?”

“I did, and my dog barked at me. He hardly ever does that.”

“Maybe you’ve not been home in so long he’s forgotten you.”

“More likely, he was upset that it was me and not my brother. That kid’s part dog or something, for how well he gets along with them. Literally any dog falls in love with him.”

“A handy trait, if you’re a vet.”

“Which he’s not. He’s a dancer at the El Dorado.”

 

Baekhyun appears in his doorway. “Hello, Mr. Kim. I didn’t get to greet you yesterday.”

“Mr. Byun! You were a regular hero this morning, I heard. Nothing like an attempted robbery to get your blood up first thing in the morning.”

“My blood was already up before that.” He has the bruise under his collar to prove it.

Jongdae grins and neatly stacks papers from the day before. “Sounds like something my husband would say.”

“You’re married?”

He hums. “Eight years next month, but don’t let that deter you.”

“And how did you meet your lucky husband of nearly eight years, Mr. Kim?”

“I went to the police with a friend after getting into a bar fight. He had to deal with my drunk ass all night.”

“Memorable. He must have enjoyed that.”

“Still does, on occasion.”

Jongdae smiles and waves at someone behind Baekhyun. A tall, handsome man knocks on the doorframe of Joonmyun’s office. The man is dragged inside, the door is closed, and the blinds are drawn.

“Oh my. Reminds me of my college days; I wonder what they could possibly doing.” Baekhyun’s eyes gleam.

“Don’t be too certain. I’ve heard Joonmyun is known to scold employees with the door closed like that…” His voice trails off, and he stares at the office with glazed eyes, seeing something far away.

“Mr. Kim?” Baekhyun waves a hand in front of him. He lowers his voice, “ _Jongdae_? Are you okay?”

“You’d asked if I’d noticed anyone suspicious, like a frequent customer or new client or whatever.” Jongdae looks at Baekhyun with a frown. “ _That man_ is. Joonmyun’s boyfriend, Yifan. He visits a lot, and I didn’t think of it, because it didn’t seem odd, but he’s asked about our security system and procedure. No one says anything when we see him around, either; we just assume he’s here for hyung.”

“Write his name for me. I’ll look into him.”

“I don’t know his full name; Joonmyun hyung’s only used his first name, but it’s unusual,” Jongdae says, tearing a sheet of paper from a pad. “You’ll probably find something on him. I hope it’s just bizarre coincidence, though. I’m not sure what he does for a living, but Joonmyun hyung adores him. Maybe he works in security or another bank.”

“Maybe.” Baekhyun pockets the paper. “I’ll find out. What can you tell me about Kim Joonmyun?”

“Why, you have a thing for bankers?” Baekhyun rolls his eyes, and Jongdae shakes his head. “He’s not involved. He wouldn’t have the guts or lack of brains for robbery. Although...he has experienced them before. Twice.”

“That’s statistically significant,” Baekhyun muses aloud. He watches the opposite office thoughtfully, although neither of them can see anything. The murmur of conversation grows as police open the bank to the public again. “I need to get back to work, Mr. Kim. It was nice talking with you.”

“The pleasure was mine; thank you for what you did earlier. Yerim was very scared.”

“She was also very brave and did exactly what she should have done.” He bows a little. “See you later, sir.”

Jongdae is only half-aware of what he picks up to read. At one point, Joonmyun’s door opens, and Yifan leaves, parting with an affectionate kiss. Joonmyun opens the blinds but doesn’t pull them entirely. He looks more tired than before.

Planning robberies while juggling personal morals and work ethics would be exhausting, though, Jongdae imagines.

He still can’t believe Joonmyun would have anything to do with something illegal. The man always obeys signs saying to not walk on the grass, even when it’s convenient.

“Hyung. Everything okay?”

“Of course,” he sighs, obviously not okay. “Why do you ask?”

“You look ready to fall asleep on your desk.”

“Mmm. I just need a pillow. My jacket can be a blanket.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Yifan came by to let me know he’ll be leaving again sometime next week, and he’s not sure for how long, but he’s trying to convince me it’ll be the last time.”

“Did you tell him about the attempted robbery.”

“Yes, and he was very surprised. Scared, too, it seems like; he again tried to convince me to quit and retire with him.”

“To be fair,” Jongdae drawls, “this is your third experience with a robbery.”

“Second. I wasn’t here for the first one.”

“That’s still more than average.” Jongdae sits across from him. “Hyung, it’s a traumatic event. No one could fault you for at least taking a break. Go with your boyfriend wherever he’s going this time.”

“I cope by working, Jongdae, but thank you for your concern.

The day ends without incident. Even reporters are done milling about by the time Jongdae heads home. He waits up for Baekhyun with Chen on his lap. At least his legs get to sleep.

“Jongdae, why are you still up?”

“I wanted to know what happened today.”

“It can wait until morning; let’s go to bed.” Chen is unwilling to leave Jongdae’s lap, clinging to his pajamas in its sleep.

“Just tell me who it was.”

“We’re not releasing his name.” Baekhyun sighs and finally removes the cat’s claws from his husband. “He was just a dumb kid, a minor. We’ve released him to his parents already.”

“That’s it?”

“We can’t do a whole lot else. No ties to the other robberies; he has a history of petty theft and runs with some other small time punks. He’ll be indicted on attempted robbery and possession of a weapon.”

Jongdae stands and picks up his cat again. It’s really not fair.

“I had an officer check on Kim Yerim at home; she was resting but doing well, according to her mom.”

“That’s some good news, at least.”

The day passes uneventfully; racking up to a full week without any more excitement than a very loud, entitled woman throwing her husband’s name around as a threat if she didn’t see a manager immediately. Joonmyun sat with her for an hour, because she refused to leave and kept trying to get him to accept an invitation to a private club.

Joonmyun politely declines, and Jongdae’s laughter can be heard all the way in the security office.

Uniformed officers are added to the bank’s security team, standing as glorified doormen for clients. Baekhyun orders security guards to double their rounds and report any suspicious behavior or activity.

Almost another whole week passes before something happens.

Tellers have been slowly closing window by window until one remains open for the few stragglers coming in after work.

Joonmyun invites Jongdae for a drink before heading home and is sitting across from his desk when they hear the sound of a lot of feet on the tiles. A group of nearly a dozen walks in, pulls on masks, and draws out guns. More join them from within the bank, sentries to check guards and remaining clients.

“What the—”

Jongdae drags Joonmyun down behind his desk with him. Dragons cover clients and employees in the main lobby; there’s only the one door out unless they can make it out back without being seen, and Jongdae’s office is interior without a window.

Lifting the phone, there’s nothing. Overhead lights dim to the most basic lights that usually remain on overnight. Pneumo tubes stop except for the distant _thunk_ in the main lobby.

“That’s efficient,” Jongdae comments. “They’re making it look like the bank is closed. It’s shift change; by the time anyone outside realizes, they hope to be long gone...” If he could get outside, he could get a description of their vehicle; such a large group can’t escape on foot.

Someone, probably the leader, shouts commands in Mandarin. Jongdae can’t keep up with what he’s saying, but by the movement of the rest, they must be told where to go and what to take and to hurry up.

“This is insane. Hit twice within two weeks.” Joonmyun appears remarkably calm, although Jongdae notices his hands shake.

“Is that really your concern right now?” Jongdae asks. He tries to use the reflection on his metal wastebasket to see what’s happening outside, but it’s too distorted. “I know you have experience with this sort of thing, but honestly.”

“I told you, I cope with work.”

“Mathematics isn’t going to help us. We just have to wait and hope they don’t care too much about hostages.”

“Hostages? They just want money.”

“Exactly. They’ve gotten away so far without hurting anyone, but maybe money weighs more than human lives. Here.” He scoots a little ways away. “Get under the desk.” It’s a completely solid front; nothing can be seen unless someone walks to the back.

“It’s your desk; you get under it!” Joonmyun hisses.

“I don’t hold an important position with keys to things.”

“Those are in my desk. I think.”

“They don’t know that; they don’t need to know that. Get under there and stay quiet.” He pushes Joonmyun as kindly as his patience allows and crawls to the far end of his desk.

It’s a stupid plan that he has in mind, but he should gain some valuable information as long as he’s not shot first.

Joonmyun peeks from beneath the desk. “Jongdae, what are you doing?”

“It’s fine, hyung.” Jongdae focuses on his nose and breathing. His office isn’t at all dusty; the cleaning staff does an excellent job, so he has to summon a sneeze all on his own. Even muffled in his elbow, it’s a loud sneeze, and the leader sends someone to find him.

Jongdae has seen guns before, living with Baekhyun. He’s even learned how to dismantle, rebuild, clean, and shoot before.

Never has he faced one, and he feels an inkling of regret for his very stupid plan.

The Dragon doesn’t check his office after spotting him, though, so Joonmyun remains hidden and unknown when Jongdae’s marched out to the foyer and forced to sit among the other hostages. An older security guard is kneeling beside the remaining tellers; Jongdae doesn’t see Baekhyun and hopes it’s a good thing.

A tall Dragon wearing a golden mask crosses his arms and addresses him. “Where are the keys to the lower vaults?” As well as street-level vaults, the bank contains three basement and sub-basement level vaults. Jongdae isn’t even sure what all they hold.

“I don’t have keys. The managers have all left, and their offices are locked, if the keys were even left here at all.”

“Kim Joonmyun would have keys.”

It’s strange for them to know specific names, but it could’ve been pulled from the plaque on his office door.

“He’s gone, like I told you.” He leans with the barrel pressed to his temple. “You can try to break in, but it’s a waste of time.” Another Dragon speaks lowly to the leader and is directed back where they had come from. Jongdae’s Chinese is too rusty to fully understand, but he thinks they’re asking what to do about what to do downstairs.

It’s only been a couple of minutes. Reports on past robberies have conflicting reports, because no one seems to know where the Dragons come from. Some witnesses state they noticed a couple men coming in like the average customer but turn around and suddenly have a mask and a gun.

For the most part, everyone is calm. The teller sniffles a little but stares at her hands clutching the hem of her skirt. Out of sight, out of mind.

Unfortunately, Jongdae can’t look around with a gun to his head, so his stupid idea has already failed. Joonmyun is staying hidden, at least.

The same can’t be said for his husband.

“Dragons, I’m Detective Byun Baekhyun with the police department. Let’s talk.” The Dragons start to disperse, grabbing what they can. “No one needs to get hurt.” A trigger-happy Dragon disagrees and empties a clip into the wall Baekhyun ducks behind; they fall with two bullets to the chest, and the leader swears in English.

“Out! Take what you can. Go, _go_!” A trio of red-masked Dragons with automatic weapons spray the walls and ceiling with bullets, driving everyone to the ground.

Two more Dragons fall, but one of them gets up and hobbles after the others, leaving drops of blood behind.

Flashing red lights flicker through the windows just too late. Officers swarm the bank and cover the downed Dragons, kicking aside weapons and checking on hostages briefly before running to clear the building.

Joonmyun’s escorted out by an officer and is passed to Jongdae when he offers an arm. They’re taken outside where ambulances and paramedics are waiting. Jongdae sits patiently as he’s checked over, assuring and reassuring Joonmyun that he’s fine and nodding along as his friend starts a spiel on how stupid he was.

“I know, hyung... You’re right, hyung… It won’t happen again, hyung...”

Baekhyun finds Jongdae sitting on the rear fender of an ambulance and pulls him into a tight hug when the paramedic gives the okay. He has his badge on his belt and gun in a shoulder holster that isn’t standard for security guards. “I’m so sorry, Jongdae.”

“I’m fine.” He hugs him tight, finally feeling his arms shaking, and only pushes Baekhyun away when he catches Joonmyun’s expression. “Kim Joonmyun, this is my husband, Byun Baekhyun.” They bow. Another detective calls Baekhyun’s name and waves him over. Jongdae touches his arm reassuringly. “Take care of things here, and I’ll see you later, okay?”

Overall, the heist resulted in a lot less than the Dragons could have gotten. Three of their members were arrested but refuse to speak; the one Baekhyun shot died on scene. At least one other is wounded, and police send messages to surrounding hospitals and veterinarians and clinics to beware of anyone coming in with a gunshot wound.

Baekhyun spends most of the night filing reports and explaining to his boss why he did what he did and how he failed to mention that the bank he assigned himself was the one his husband worked at.

“I couldn’t think of anything good to say,” Baekhyun recalls once he comes home. “So I didn’t say anything, and he finally got tired of yelling at me and sent me home.” Chen is clingier than usual, sensing the stress of the evening and refusing to leave their sides. “How’s your friend?”

“Tired.” Needless to say. Joonmyun refused to be seen by a paramedic and shared a cab home with Jongdae. “He probably drank himself to sleep.”

“Can’t blame him.” Baekhyun puts Chen on his shoulder and goes to their cabinet of alcohol. “It sounds like a good plan.”

The bank isn’t even closed the next day, although velvet ropes are hung to block off damaged areas to be cleaned and repaired. Jongdae’s rather sorry to see the pockmarks in the ceiling fresco.

Joonmyun doesn’t come in at all. One of the secretaries tells Jongdae he called early, “sounding like death warmed over,” and said he was taking a sick day. Jongdae thinks he deserves a sick week and is more than a little surprised when he shows up at their apartment building that night. The doorman allows him up after calling, and Jongdae meets him at the door.

“Hyung, I thought you’d still be home.” He catches Chen before it can wind around Joonmyun’s ankles.

“I want nothing more than to stay in bed, but I actually wanted to talk to your husband.”

“Is it about your boyfriend?” Baekhyun stands in the doorway to the kitchen, looking serious and sympathetic at the same time.

Joonmyun nods.

“Let’s sit. Do you want tea, coffee…?”

“Nothing, thank you.” He sits on the blue sofa and offers Chen a hand. The cat barely sniffs him before plopping its chin on his fingers. “I’m sorry for not calling, first, but the longer I sat at home, the more I convinced myself I was being foolish.”

Baekhyun sits beside Jongdae. “Why?”

“Because it’s ridiculous, and I don’t want to admit the probability,” Joonmyun admits softly. He withdraws his hand, and Chen invites itself onto the sofa beside him. Jongdae grabs it before it gets too pushy.

“Why come to me?” Baekhyun asks.

“If this is nothing more than me being paranoid, I don’t want the entire department to hear about it. Jongdae’s spoken highly of you, and you sound like someone I can trust.” Baekhyun glows a little with the praise. “The thing is… I heard the Flying Dragons last night, and they sounded very familiar. I don’t speak Chinese, but my boyfriend does, and I’ve met some of his friends who speak it, too. The tone or pitch or something just sounded _familiar_ , and I spent some time looking at old newspapers and the calendar, and Yifan’s never been around when the robberies happened.”

“How do you mean?”

“I often go with him to see him off when he’d take the train or boat to wherever he was going. Those days are just before a robbery would happen, and he’d come back a couple weeks later.” He shakes his head and fiddles with his watchband. “That’s what it’d seem like, at least. I never actually saw him leave with the train, and it’s not that difficult to get on one car on one side and leave using the other. Trains and buses and boats are coming and going all the time; he could leave for merely a _day_ and then return without telling me.

“Am I just being paranoid, Detective?” he pleads.

Baekhyun sighs and is silent. Jongdae knows that look; he doesn’t want to say what he needs to say, because it’ll probably hurt.

“We got your boyfriend’s name from an informant and looked into both of you, to be thorough. With your history of experience, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could be involved, but you were cleared very quickly.”

“And Yifan?”

“Wu Yifan is lying. We interviewed employees at the stations and docks he supposedly used, and while he arrived, he did not depart, or after departing, he returned within days. He also has ties with the men we arrested and shared an apartment with the deceased—a kid named Huang Zitao—in China, in the city the robberies seem to have begun.”

Jongdae leans forward. He’s never seen someone look so heartbroken outside of a funeral, but, in a way, the man Joonmyun thought he knew is gone. “Hyung, I’m so sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” He laughs dryly.

“There’s a chance this is coincidence,” Baekhyun remarks. “There’s always that chance; we’re being as thorough as we can and checking everything, but he is our best lead after the men we arrested. They’re not talking; they say they don’t speak Korean or just refuse to reveal anything about themselves or their organization.

“What I’d like to know,” he says, leaning his elbows on his knees, “is if Wu Yifan has contacted you recently.”

Joonmyun shakes his head. “It’s been days. He said then he would be leaving sometime this week; I don’t know where for or for how long.”

“Can you call him? This is sudden, and I don’t want to pressure you or make you do anything, but if we can set up the right conditions, he may slip. If he implicates himself, we’ll have probable cause to arrest him. An organization needs a leader; without one, they’ll fall apart or fight among themselves to find a new leader.”

“You want to trap him,” Joonmyun mutters. It doesn’t sound like he likes the idea of tricking someone he loved. Thought he loved. Before either Jongdae or Baekhyun can reassure him, he nods. “People are getting hurt, now, and a man is dead. Criminals or not, no one deserves that.”

Chen purrs in agreement, stretching out a paw to touch Baekhyun’s hand.

They plan for Joonmyun to contact Yifan the next day. Baekhyun loops in his officers and boss and briefs them on a proposed sting operation.

Joonmyun tells Jongdae Yifan will be visiting him at home the following night, before he’s leaving for North America via steamer. Jongdae tells Baekhyun, just in case Joonmyun is suspected or observed, considering Baekhun’s cover as a security officer is blown.

Technically, Jongdae isn’t allowed on police operations, but he invites himself as Joonmyun’s friend and promises to behave.

An electrical company van is borrowed by police and parked behind Joonmyun’s building. Technicians install a camcorder and microphone, setting books up to hide it, and run the wires out a window and down to the van where they connect with a monitor.

Jongdae chews his lip as they test the image and sound. “What if this doesn’t work?” Baekhyun pats his shoulder and squeezes his neck in a sort of massage.

“I’ve got a dozen units on standby. First sign of trouble, and we’ll go in.” One of the receivers behind him whistles, and an officer says, “There’s a car pulling up… Positive visual on the target.”

“Good.” Baekhyun leans over and picks up the hand set connected to Joonmyun’s phone line. “Mr. Kim, can you hear me? Wu just pulled up; he’s getting out of the car, now. Remember to relax; we are nearby and ready to enter. All you need to do is keep him calm and engaged, but if you don’t feel comfortable or safe at any point, say so, and we’ll come in, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you feel you can’t do this, we will come in,” Baekhyun stresses. He’s as anxious as Jongdae is, but Jongdae imagines it’s a different anxiety to his own for Joonmyun. A lot is riding on this little peep show.

“I can do this,” Joonmyun promises. They hear the doorbell ring. “You can rely on me.”

Yifan looks sorry when Joonmyun opens the door and leads him into the living room. “Joonmyun, I am so sorry. I’ve been really busy—.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for calling so suddenly.”

“Joonmyun… you were _robbed_. If I’d known sooner, I’d have been here for you right away—”

“Just let him talk, Joonmyun,” Baekhyun murmurs, although the man inside can’t hear him. “He’ll implicate himself. Just lead him to it.”

“—and I’ve not been good at balancing things at all with everything that’s happened, lately.”

“Yifan, it’s alright. I understand.” He shrugs and sits with his back to the camera, leaving the only other seat closer to the camera for Yifan. “I just missed you is all.” 

“I’m sorry, Joonmyun...”

“Am I that gross when I apologise to you?” Baekhyun asks as Yifan kisses Joonmyun once and a couple more pecks to really express his appeasement. 

“No,” Jongdae replies. “You’re even worse.”

Yifan and Joonmyun seem to be talking pleasantries after making up. “How is that boy Zitao doing? You mentioned he was really missing home last time, has he gotten the money to visit?” Supposedly, he wanted to earn his own way and prove to his family that he could look after and provide for himself. Joonmyun thought it was honorable, at the time.

“Unfortunately...he passed, very unexpectedly. That will be part of this trip, taking him home.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How did it happen?”

“It was an accident at work.”

“What did he do?”

“Manual labor type of work.” Yifan runs a hand through his hair. He does look sorry to Jongdae, although the picture quality is grainy. “It was a terrible accident that never should’ve happened. No one else was supposed to be there, and it was going to go just like always.”

“What was going to go like always?”

“I was with him,” Yifan admits slowly. “We had a set timeline and procedure. He panicked.”

“Yifan, I want you to do me a favor, okay? A big favor.”

“Anything.”

“Tell me the truth: How can you tell me so calmly that boy died when he was shot five times right in front of you?”

“How do you know?”

“I was there, Yifan.”

“Joon—It was only twice, and I feel terrible, believe me—”

“I can’t believe you anymore.” He pulls his hands away when Yifan reaches for him, getting to his feet. “No. I’m done.” He sighs and rubs his face. “I’m _tired_.” Dropping his hands to his lap, he looks at the growing collection of coffee mugs on his low table. He needs to clean. “Are we done, Detective?”

Yifan looks at the table and back to Joonmyun, confused. Someone knocks on the door, and he jumps. Joonmyun stands wordlessly and crosses to the door, opening it and stepping aside for a pair of uniformed officers and Detective Byun in a dark blue suit.

“Wu Yifan, on your feet, please. Hands behind your back.”

Baekhyun follows his officers and Wu Yifan outside, where the night is once again lit with flashes of red from police cars and white from photographers. Unfortunately, he knows, watching Jongdae meet a somber-faced Joonmyun at the apartment’s main doors, it’s not entirely a happy ending, but it is a win for the people with the leader of the Flying Dragons on his way to booking and the promise of prison.


End file.
